All that glitters is gold

So glitter girl finally got her act together and got onto facebook. Good to see. Took her bloody long enough. I’m going to dedicate my post to her today.. I started this blog after her encouragement to get back into the habit of writing regularly (she wanted me to write erotic literature, at which I’ve failed abysmally, but at least she gets to read some of my output fairly often – *note to self: sauce it up a bit!*). I’ve known glitter girl since I was three – we met at kindy and then went to primary school together before she moved to some once-horse town for a few years.. We reconnected during high school where my scholarly endeavours were scorned by her cool, older mates and then again when we were both 18. It was at this point that she decided to completely and wholly corrupt me take me under her wing.

I can honestly say that probably none of my friends have had as much an influence on my life.. I would never have been as drunk or as hungover (usually on subsequent days) or thrown out of as many pubs, clubs and bars, if glitter girl wasn’t ever-present in my formative years.. it was her idea to flash our bazookas at the octogenarian that was using the ATM on the other side of the window that not only got me thrown out of a pub (that the window belonged to), but also almost got me dumped. But I also wouldn’t have headed east when I did, or got off to such a good start in the beautiful harbour city, if it wasn’t for her constant nagging gentle encouragement.

Anyway, glitter girl. I won’t carry on, but I just wanted to tell you that I love you. And I know you are not a sop by any means, so will do so by saying – you rock and you can lead me astray anytime. Now stop reading this and get back to facebook! xx

Thanks to everyone for reading my blog

I can see all the hits and it surprises me! Anyway, just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it. Especially DS and WAHID. You fellas both rock. Hot and lovely!

And thanks to the friend who just rang me and actually had me believing that he had joined AA. You and your flatmate are massive piss-heads and I actually thought it was a good idea and would have been more than happy to be your work-sponsor.. Ha, ha, ha. OK, so I am gullible. But maybe you should actually think about it. Shout out to both of you little drunks. xx

Onto other news. I’m in the hometown at the moment taking care of some family business and I always think it’s a bit strange coming back to the house I grew up in.  My brother and I had each moved out of home for about a week when our bedrooms were converted. My brother’s became the computer room and mine is now a guest room, and all of our childhood crap was unceremoniously put into big trunks in storage in the back sheds). It means that now when we come back home, we stay in the guest room but otherwise, everything is exactly as it was before I left. Including: Dad waking me up when he goes the toilet at 6am – the guest room is next to the toilet, and I don’t get woken up with the toilet flushing - when my parents had their kitchen overhauled, they (in a flash of wisdom) decided to move the exhaust fan from above the stove to the toilet. They also had it connected to the light so that when you turn the light on, it sounds like an aeroplane taking off in that tiny space - gives first-time guests a shock, that’s for sure. And the cat whining at my window every morning (the cat is old and I can’t believe it’s not dead yet – especially when it’s breathe smells so close to death). And my dad sticking to the habits he has cultivated for years.. the birds get fed at 5. The garden gets watered at 6. The dinner is put on at 6.15. The shows are watched and he is in bed by 9. Which leaves me sitting up, only onto my second glass of wine wondering who I can play with? Ahhh life.

Fine. Everything is FINE!

Hi all. Well, thanks to those of you who have sent me emails asking where I am.. Things have been pretty crazy lately. I decided to write this blog thinking that I could entertain you with humorous tidbits of my life, etc.. but so far this year, my luck has not really been that great (normally, it’s pretty damn good… this year – awful!) It’s been a shocker of a year. One of my good friends asked how I was the other day, and I replied with the stock-standard “fine”. She looked at me with one eye raised and said, “I know exactly what “fine” means: “Fuck, It Never Ends.”

And you know what. That is sort of how I feel at the moment. Have a good one.

Update on dating

A few posts ago I mentioned that one of my girlfriends had allowed me to put her up on a well-known internet dating site.. which I did. A few weeks later she asked me to take her profile down, because she had met a great guy who was warm, funny, witty, attentive and best of all, he was interested in her too. They have been for dinner a couple of times, he texts her every night, calls her every few days.. life is good. Although it could be better. If he didn’t evade most of her invitations to do something. And if he didn’t only text her late at night when it was obvious he had been out somewhere… Something was up.

My friend was curious and then it struck her like a bolt of lightening out of the blue.. Quickly, she went to the dating site that I had put her on and did a quick search. Sure enough, there he was.. the man himself.. Smiling out of the photograph beseeching women to drop him a line… Like the charming, charming man, he is. 

So now the question is this – does she make contact with him via the site to let him know she is wise to his wiley ways? Or does she wait until they meet up, before flippantly mentioning odd tidbits of information he has offered about himself on the site (“Would you say you’re 175 cms tall? Or more like 170?”, “What would you say your interests are? Latin dancing and newspapers on the weekend?”)? Either way gets the message across, but really, the latter option will be a whole lot more fun…

Work drinks

Gotta love it when you are dragged along to a bar to make up numbers for the ole’ client drinks – “the client is going to be there, so please, please, please come out and have a few drinks so it look like we care” – er.. no problemo! Not only did I drag my own sorry ass along, but dragged three friends’ sorry asses as well. Thinking that we would get a beer or two at the company’s expense, I was pleasantly surprised when we were all invited to go to dinner. It was me, my three ring-ins, the two Client Relationship Managers, the one client. Did you count that? Me plus three, my beloved company’s two representatives, and ONE client. So my group of four, outweighed the client reps two-fold, and the actual client FOUR-FOLD. Oops!

B-grade celebrities..

Caught up with a wonderful friend last night and we went to a gorgeous little Italian restaurant (and yes, I had pasta and wine – detox-shmetox). I walked in and the first person I saw was a B-grade celebrity (Daniel McPherson – his 15 mins of fame ended when he left Neighbours, didn’t it? Or maybe it was The Bill. But really who watches that in Oz?). He had a gorgeous lady fawning all over him and all I heard as he stood and grabbed his coat as I moved past was, “Come on, you can come and see my house”. Man, I thought to myself, he’s still got it. And she certainly wanted it.

As we took our seats, I looked around me and two tables away was yet another B-grader (C?) - this time it was Marcus Graham (he was on E-street and…um… I’m sure there was something else). He had yet another gorgeous lady fawning all over him (she actually was out of her seat and sitting on his lap) and man, he’s still got it. And man, did she want it.

I have never taken an interest in either men (although obviously I know who both are) either when they were famous, or now that they are more “has-been’ish”, but I have to be honest and say that they both looked good. Real good. And if they had even looked at me twice, I would have jumped at the chance to be the one fawning all over them. 

And the pasta was not bad either.

And another thing…

My flatmate and I have been detoxing together for almost a week now, and admittedly we haven’t exactly been puritanical in our tee-totalling regime. But we have definitely cut back on our alcohol consumption – where we used to drink “way too much”, we now drink “a bit here and there”. And it has had various results. A couple of positives to come out of it - the reduction of my beer belly (Frank Zappa was on the right track with “the bigger the cushion, the better the pushin’”) and the noticeable non-reduction of our funds. A few negatives, however, are the boredom, restlessness and insomnia of an evening. It is becoming more and more apparent that alcoholism wasn’t  the only reasonwe drank – it had medicinal purposes - i.e. allowing us to sleep at night.

Sunday night, after almost three days of solid-not-drinking, I was awake until about 4 in the morning – I’ m reading “The Dirt” – a (very intimate) look at Motley Crue’s rise to fame and then some, so had Tommy, Nikki, Vince and Mick to keep me company, but let me tell you, getting to sleep at 4am is not the best preparation for a day of teleconferences (not even half-exciting at the best of times) starting at 8am sharp… I was asked on more than one occasion if it was me snoring down the line. The question is, is it better to be well-rested, albeit hungover, or sobre as a judge, but asleep? Hmm, it’s a toughie..

Simpsonize!

I found a great site today and thought I would share it: http://simpsonizeme.com/ I put in a photo of my dad and it turned out pretty well I think – I especially love the eyebrows, they are scarily accurate. And it wasted a few more minutes of my exciting working day.. Try it!

 

Princess seeks prince. Frogs need not apply.

Spoke to my gorgeous friend in London today – he was drunk and staggering from the nightclub (G-A-Y) to the nightbus (558) and rang to tell me that he had heard about my recent heart-break (he must be the only person in the western world not on facebook so it took him a few weeks for gossmosis to get to him). He assured me that I was a princess and I deserved nothing less than a prince. When I asked him why I kept getting frogs, he laughed so loudly that people around him on the nightbus started complaining. And why do I keep getting the frogs? Is that all that is out there? I thought about it, and “FROGS” pretty much sums it up: 

F – Fucked-up from a previous relationship or completely Forgettable.

R – Rather average looking, on the Rebound, or Right now not into Relationships.

O – Otherwise taken, Overbearing, Over-the-top, Over it.

G – Gay, Gay, Gay, Gorgeous and Gay.

S – Single, but superficial, sleazy or just plain stupid.

Ugg-ly boots

I went out for dinner with a pregnant friend last night.. She’s also one of those friends who loves flat, comfortable shoes.. and no, before you ask, she’s not a lesbian, she is just a practical, comfort-loving individual who either wears Birkernstocks (summer and winter editions), crocs or ugg boots. And last night it was the latter.. She watched my face as she pulled them on knowing exactly what I was thinking (in my pointy-toed, stiletto-heeled ankle boots that leave me lame). And because (and only because) she is pregnant I bit my tongue (it was a struggle). Let the woman have some comfort, I decided, with something pressing on her bladder 24/7, she doesn’t want unneccessary toe cramping going on.

Then this morning, I was out for breakfast with my flat-mate and saw a large number of young ladies wearing the afore-mentioned ugg boots out for a day of shopping. Not-very-pregnant-looking ladies… Wearing ugg boots. I allowed my pregnant friend to wear them because.. she’s pregnant.. (ok, she’s lovely as well, AND I wouldn’t mess with her! ) but these ladies need to know – the Ugg boot was so named because – THEY ARE UGLY!!

FFF – Favourite Friends Forever? No – Facebook Friend Farming!

I’ve mentioned the ole’ facebook craze a few times on this blog (the ex making our break-up quite public, and then endlessly “friending” me and “unfriending” me to the delight of the scores of mutual friends was interesting…) but now I’ve noticed a new phenomena: the fine art of “facebook friend farming”.

I have a few friends in particular who have trawled through my friends list to find the ones they know. I have 114 friends (respectable) and of course, the recurring request from the ex that I’m ignoring this time – he’s only going to unfriend me in a few days, so really what’s the point? After finding someone they vaguely or otherwise know, the request is sent and voila! The number of friends is quickly multiplied… One friend (we’ll call her “Cara”) MSN’ed me today to ask if I thought another would mind if she added him (we’ll call him “Bill”). I advised her (Cara) that he (Bill) was the original friend farmer so not only would he not mind, he would love it and encourage it further.

But are there limits to the Facebook Friend Farming? How well do you have to know a friend-of-a-friend to add them? Do they have to be someone you know well and have met on numerous occasions, or can it be the guy from that party two years ago that you bonded with when he held your hair back as you prayed to the goddess of ceramics? One friend of mine did a search on a mate’s name, found a “hot chick” with the similar name and requested her friendship via facebook. So apparently you don’t need to know them at all.. (How do you think I’ve got 114?)

So, Cara and Bill – you know who you are - I love you both so please continue to farm my friends – but why stop there? Why not type in some random names (the more common the better I would say) in the search field and add some strangers to your friends lists? It opens up a whole new world of friendship groups – your numbers will be up there in the thousands in no time! Or, the alternative – get off the computer and go out and make some new friends!

Does my fat look fat in this?

I just wanted to assure those concerned (by a previous entry) that I’m not suffering body image issues at all. The diet/detox thang (from the post “The best way to get over a man…”) was more just because: detox –  I’ve been drinking like a fish (or even better, a really, really thirsty person) and - diet – because I’ve been on a work trip for ten days so have been indulging in hotel buffet breakfasts, big catered lunches, team/work dinners with all the trimmings, with coffees, soft drinks and alcoholic beverages thrown in at almost every occasion – think the Belgian Beer Cafe followed by the Lowenbrau Beer Hall followed by Bavarian Beer House. And that’s not making mention of when I went to my former-manager’s house for dinner and we ate three bottles of champagne with a side of takeaway pizza (the pizza was a digusting-but-well-known franchise brand, the champers was nothing less than Moet – and that’s why I always loved that manager!)

And so, as an update – the diet is going well so far – I only had two pieces of raisin toast for breakfast, went easy on the butter, have only had two coffees so far and went the SMALL pizza and DIET coke option at lunch – and skipped the Krispey Kreme donut shop on the way back to the office. All in all, a pretty healthy day!

Why?

It’s been done a million times but I just don’t understand: why do people give an ultimatum when they are only prepared to hear one answer… eg. they say, “either the dog goes, or I go” and the obvious response could be, “no, honey, I adore you, and couldn’t live without you, the dog’s days are numbered” just as much as it could well be a mumbled “well, I love that damn dog, so I guess I’ll give you a hand packing your bags”.

In my case, I was texted (I’m guessing with a menacing tone, who knows with text messages?). “You either respond, or I’ll pick you up from the airport,” to which I responded (*note – responded) with “please don’t pick me up from the airport.” Isn’t that what the ultimatum was? One or the other? So I gave one… and actually addressed the other in doing so.

I then had the tirade of expected responses (and then some)… but my question is this: why give an ultimatum, with two optional responses, when really you are only going to accept one. It just doesn’t seem right, or real smart for that matter. So - the lesson in this (and I think there’s something in this for all of us, don’t you?) is this: Give an ultimatum if, and only if, you are prepared for either response. And if you’re only going to prepare for one, if I were you, I’d prepare for the one you want least.. 

Have a great day! 

The best way to get over a man..

So, as I’ve mentioned (and will probably continue to do so until the bitterness subsides ), the loved one and I are well and truly over.. I’ve started on the rebuilding and re-fabulousness-ising.. which means, day three of soup diet/detox, a change of the old hair style and colour (which he hasn’t seen and won’t see any time soon), some new clothes, new make-up (ok, so the bag-snatcher helped me with this one since ALL MY MAC MAKE-UP WAS IN THE DAMN HANDBAG!), new look, new attitude, etc, etc.. My only concern with the “new me” is the detox (aka “no drinking”) so I’ve decided it’s a week-day detox – Sunday night til Thursday nights (inclusive). This means I can go out and write myself off each weekend… well, maybe not write myself off (exactly…), but definitely go out (where there are men) and be sociable.. I need to meet someone new to take my mind of the loser/user/abuser. And as a very good friend of mine says, “the best way to get over a man is to get under another one!”